


Prodigy

by thingswithwings



Category: Slings & Arrows, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-28
Updated: 2007-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is essentially just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prodigy

  
"Ellen Fanshaw," Geoffrey says, and takes another swig of the cheap beer.

Darren snorts. "You always say Ellen. Pick someone new for once."

"You always say Barry from wardrobe," Geoffrey says, in his defense. He's not the only one who's predictable. Plus, Ellen is way prettier than Barry.

"Ah!" Darren says, raising a finger in that annoying prissy way that he's developed since they left drama school. "Then you can't have seen our newest colleague, hmmm? He's the new Barry."

Geoffrey tries to think. No one new has joined the company; it's not a very big one (Geoffrey's going to work his way up) and there aren't too many people to keep track of. Except –

"Oh, you are _kidding_."

"What?" The little smirk that Darren's developed is almost as annoying and prissy as the finger thing.

"Not the kid, the fourth Roman? Christ, Darren, you wanna get arrested?"

"Oh come _on_ ; he's sixteen or something. You weren't so proper when you were sixteen." Geoffrey refuses to blush at the frank look that Darren shoots his way. There had been that one time when they were both sixteen – but it was almost six years ago, even if Darren never lets him forget it.

"Besides," Darren says, "he's some sort of prodigy – dropped out of high school two years ago to start at the National Theatre School. Going to work his way up."

Geoffrey frowns. "Fine, fuck, do what you like. Just don't come crying to me."

"I've no intention of doing so, I assure you." Darren smirks. Geoffrey rolls his eyes, orders another of the ass-flavoured Molson's, and looks forward to the day when he's a world-famous actor who can afford decent beer. Darren won't go through with it; the whole point of the game is that they don't ever go through with it.

-

Or, so he thinks. Because it turns out that the kid – Rodney, that was his name – had been in the bar, that Darren had bought him a beer, that Darren had done that thing he did where he dipped his head and whispered in your ear and suggested you go someplace with him.

Geoffrey only got that part of the story later; at the time, all he knew was that he stumbled into the alley at the end of the night and saw the kid pushed against the wall, those absurd angelic curls and pink lips against a backdrop of wet brick like something out of a Tony Kushner play. Darren was crouched down in front of him (not kneeling; Darren wouldn't want to dirty his knees) and sucking his cock.

If he hadn't drunk so much cheap beer and spent so much time fawning at Ellen uselessly from the other side of the bar, Geoffrey might have slunk away quietly and never mentioned it. And he almost slunk away quietly anyway: Darren could take care of his own business. But then the kid's eyes snapped open and locked with Geoffrey's, hard and bright and blue. He had a wide mouth, and as he saw Geoffrey standing there, his mouth crooked upwards on one side, dirty and inviting. Geoffrey swallowed reflexively.

Then the kid's eyes fluttered closed again. He made a noise – jesus, a low broken-open noise – and shoved forward with his hips, shoving into Darren's mouth and obviously coming.

-

Geoffrey doesn't know how he agrees to it, how it happens; he remembers the sight of the kid's wet dick pulling free from Darren's mouth, remembers Darren turning and seeing him and _smirking_ again, remembers being bundled into a cab with the two of them, remembers Darren crawling into his lap and kissing him, right there in the back of the cab, with the kid watching them and panting and cupping himself through his jeans.

When they get to where they're going – Geoffrey's place, of course; Darren's such a prick – the kid gets out of the car first and waits on the curb.

"Darren," Geoffrey says, trying for a moment of lucidity. "Are you sure about this? We can – I can – but, seriously, this kid's sixteen."

Darren looks confused. Before he can speak, the kid speaks from next to the open door, sounding exasperated. "He's seventeen, his name is Rodney, and he can hear you, you know."

Geoffrey rolls his eyes. Never let it be said that Darren doesn't know his own type: he likes the arrogant, talented assholes. Fucking narcissist.

"Seriously," the kid – Rodney – says. "Get out of the car, will you? I'm not standing here all night."

Darren shrugs at him and dives out of the car. Geoffrey follows – he's still not sure how he got here, why he agreed to this, but he's willing to blame the beer for now.

They get inside with a minimum of fuss, and Geoffrey leads them to his bed – a double mattress on the floor. Rodney turns out to be pretty bossy behind that choir-boy façade; he pushes Geoffrey down onto the bed and crawls onto him. He feels hot.

Geoffrey watches as Rodney licks his lips. "I did Darren already," he says. "But I can do you too." Before Geoffrey can say anything, Rodney squirms down his body and unzips his pants and whoops, just like that, Geoffrey Tennant has his dick in the mouth of a seventeen-year-old prodigy dropout _boy_.

"Such a hypocrite, Geoffrey," Darren chuckles. He's still standing, stripping down casually and pulling something from his pocket.

Geoffrey tries not to look at Darren, just looks down at the mop of dark blonde hair and the smartass blue eyes and the pink lips stretched around his cock.

But Darren's right there: unzipping the kid's jeans from behind and pulling them down, baring his round little ass to the air. Geoffrey groans and feels himself swell a little further in Rodney's mouth. Rodney makes a noise, too, a little humming sound, like he's getting off on sucking dick, like he does it all the time, like it's his very _favourite_ thing.

Geoffrey loses the plot for a little while, then, thrusting shallowly into Rodney's mouth, fisting the base of his dick, shifting his hips to let Rodney get his hands on Geoffrey's ass. It's the best blowjob he's ever had, wet and hard and enthusiastic; when he looks up again, it's because Rodney's pulled his mouth off. Geoffrey's dick feels bereft.

Rodney's got his blue eyes closed and is groaning; behind him, Darren is naked and sweating and, and, as far as Geoffrey can tell, has a few fingers deep inside the kid's asshole.

"You ever do this before?" Darren asks, his voice lower than Geoffrey's ever heard it.

"No," Rodney groans out. "I heard about it, though. They say it's how you get AIDS."

"I have a condom," Darren says.

Rodney braces himself on his hands against the bed, his cheek rubbing unintentionally against Geoffrey's cock. He groans again, pushing back on Darren's fingers.

"Yeah," Rodney says, "yeah, okay, do it."

And this wasn't what Geoffrey signed up for – not that he'd really signed up for anything, not that he'd anticipated having any kind of gay sex whatsoever, but this really was more than he'd expected. This kid, all long limbs and square jaw, straddling Geoffrey's lap with his pants pulled down to his ankles; Darren, naked, rolling on a condom and fucking him in the ass.

Geoffrey gets a hand on his neglected cock and starts to pump. He'll worry about it in the morning.

"Oh, jesus," Rodney mutters. Geoffrey watches the thin muscles on his biceps cord and bunch as he takes more of Darren's weight.

Then his eyes open – that blue shocking Geoffrey again, so sharp – and gets a look at Geoffrey pumping into his own fist.

"Hey," he says, grinning with one side of his mouth in that way that Geoffrey's getting used to, "no fair. That's – oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," as Darren slides in all the way, "that's my job."

And just like that, he's sucking Geoffrey's dick again: they're both in him, Darren in his ass and Geoffrey in his mouth, and Rodney's breathing loud and fast through his nose like he's never been more turned on. Geoffrey can't do much from this position, but he manages to shift a little until the soft arch of his foot is pressed against Rodney's dick. Rodney groans and humps against his foot and the bed, and there's no way that this should work, but it does, it does, and then Darren makes a strangled noise and bites Rodney's shoulder and shoves Rodney forward; Geoffrey's cock bumps against the roof of Rodney's mouth and that's it, that's all it takes: he's coming hard enough to see stars.

Darren's still shifting inside Rodney, looking almost pained, pushing his orgasm and after-shocks as long as he can. Rodney presses his forehead to Geoffrey's thigh and breathes out shakily and humps his leg and then he's coming too, spilling against the sheets and breathing hard.

A few second later, and they're all collapsed together on the bed in an uneven sprawl. Darren rolls off and gets rid of the condom.

"Awesome," Rodney says.

Geoffrey runs a hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

After a few minutes, Darren breaks the silence.

"Geoffrey, do you have any cash on you?"

Geoffrey's brain is mostly offline, but he's not so far gone that he'll pass up a chance to make a joke at Darren's expense. "You charging for that, now?"

"Asshole," Darren pronounces. "For a cab."

Rodney perks his head up. "I could use cab fare, too."

"Jesus," Geoffrey says. "Fine. There's a twenty in my pocket. You'll have to split it." Geoffrey's not moving from this spot: the beer and the orgasm are working together to make his head spin unpleasantly.

Rodney grins at him, then digs his hand into Geoffrey's jeans pocket. Jesus, how is it possible that he's still wearing his jeans?

"Thanks," Rodney says. "See you round." Then he's gone; Geoffrey hears faint bumps and crashes coming from the other room as he tries to find his shoes.

Then it's just him and Darren here in his bedroom. Embarrassed suddenly, Geoffrey zips up his fly and sits up, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

Darren doesn't smirk this time; just looks tired as he pulls on his cords and his pretentious suede jacket. "I suppose I will see you around as well," he says finally.

"Since we're in the same show and all," Geoffrey agrees.

"Yeah," Darren says. Then he leaves, too. The sound of low conversation as Darren and Rodney confer about shoes and cabs; then it's quiet in his apartment, and Geoffrey lets himself fall asleep.


End file.
